


Nightmares

by ChiseHatori



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiseHatori/pseuds/ChiseHatori
Summary: Spencer Reid is struggling to sleep after his kidnapping by Tobias. Aaron is his constant reassurance that everything will be okay.Set one week after season two episode fifteen.





	Nightmares

Ever since his kidnapping, Spencer Reid could not sleep. Tobias had managed to ingrain the sheer terror of that night into his psyche for good. It was a permanent, black and ugly smudge in his memory that overwhelmed everything. He would awaken in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with goosebumps covering his trembling arms. His entire body would shake with the absolute horror of the nightmare still fresh in his mind. 

They happened so often that he had developed a routine. He would turn on all the lights in his little apartment and triple check the lock on the door. Then, the shades in the windows would be inspected to ensure that no one with mischievous intentions had used them as a potential entryway. Blankets were quickly gathered into his cluttered bedroom closet, along with a pillow and a flashlight for added comfort. Lastly, he would grab his gun and place it directly within arm’s reach. 

Camping out in the closet made him feel safe and secure. The walls surrounded him on three sides, which left the main door as the only way in and out. The beam of the flashlight lit the entire small space and exposed each mysterious shadow. Sometimes he even managed to fall back asleep for a couple of blissful hours. Unfortunately, that did not happen often. 

Tonight, he forwent the closet and lied awake in his bed until morning, while absently listening to the distant soft hoot of an owl. By the time the first ray of sunlight shown through his bedroom window, the birds had already begun to sing. He listened to their quiet melody. His corneas stung from exhaustion, but he forced himself upright. The mattress groaned as he flung his legs around and dangled them over the side of the bed. The carpet tickled the tips of his toes. 

He rubbed his eyelids with his knuckles, ignoring the hazy dark spots that danced across his vision. For a few blissful moments, he simply stared unblinkingly at a blank space on the wall – thinking of nothing but the fogginess that had settled over his brain and made his head feel unusually heavy. Spencer got to his feet and stumbled into the nightstand, effectively knocking over his lamp and sending it tumbling to the floor. Thankfully, he had caught himself just in time to avoid following after it.

The effects of his ongoing sleep deprivation were as worse as ever. His sluggish thoughts listed off all of the most common symptoms: mood changes, high blood pressure, possible weight gain, decreased immunity, balancing issues. It didn’t take a genius to realize that his blood pressure was spiking, causing his increased dizziness. Spencer groaned in frustration. 

_You’re not weak. You have to go to work._

Alas, as soon as his hand left the nightstand, his knees buckled. Spencer collapsed onto the floor in a heap with hot tears falling down his cheeks. He tried to choke down a sob as he propped himself against the wall. He silently admitted defeat. The lack of rest had finally drained his mental abilities and placed his physical health at risk. He couldn't drive to work in such a fragile condition. His emotions were haywire, and he could hardly stand properly on his feet. 

His heart was pounding – he would have to call the BAU to let them know. Of course, getting a day off was not the issue. After all, he had not taken a single vacation or sick leave in two years. No, his main concern was about how the others would react. In a room abundant with expert profilers, everyone was bound to have noticed his deterioration since the kidnapping one week ago. 

Seven days, nine hours and thirty-two minutes. 

The image of Tobias holding a revolver at his forehead flashed in his mind. The click of each empty chamber seemed to rattle the very bones in his body. He vividly remembered staring directly down the barrel of the weapon. Surprisingly, he had moved past the fear of dying at that point. In fact, he had felt strangely apathetic. There was something oddly placating about being placed in such an uncontrollable situation. 

Spencer leapt upright at the sound of his cell ringing on the table. His breathing was erratic and fast – too fast. When had he closed his eyes? He gulped down a lungful of air and reached over to answer his phone. On the bedroom floor, still shaking from the horrible memory, Spencer answered his call. 

“I’m fine, Aaron.” An abrupt edge of annoyance tinted his words. He tried to remind himself that it was because of the sleep deprivation, but he couldn’t quite shake it. 

The other end of the phone was only quiet for a split second. “I was going to offer you my company,” Aaron said, incredulous. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I-I have to call out today.” Spencer lied – not his strongest feat. 

The line buzzed with a gust of air. Aaron had just sighed extremely loud. “Why?” 

For some reason, the question only continued to heighten his anger. “I-Its none of your business,” He snapped. “Just let Gideon know I’m taking the day off.” 

He ended the call. Immediately, guilt washed away his previous annoyance. He gripped the phone and threw it across the room. When it hit the wall, Spencer sobbed into his hands. He couldn’t believe that he had been so ugly to Aaron. He had just dismissed the only person in his life that he could confide in. 

Hunger clawed at his stomach, but the last thing he felt like doing was eating. All his body craved more than anything, was sleep. Spencer scooted across the floor and into the bedroom closet. He needed to rest. His limbs seemed to weigh a hundred extra pounds. He slumped onto the carpet without bothering to pull a single blanket over himself. Although the closet door was wide open, he didn’t want to expend the strength to even close it. 

_“Confess your sins.” Tobias demanded. _

_Spencer whimpered; the rope around his wrists had cut to the bone. There was blood everywhere. A ring of flames licked at his bare feet. He tried to speak and deny his wrongdoings. He had not done anything wrong. His lips moved, but his voice refused to work. He couldn’t speak. Tobias looked furious; now he would surely be punished worse than before. He pulled out his revolver and spun the chamber. The muzzle was pointed at him._

_“For God’s will.” _

_The gun fired._

“Reid!” 

Spencer awakened; his throat was raw from screaming. His face was wet with tears. He noticed that a pair of hands were grasping his shoulders. His eyes darted around the room, searching for Tobias. Instead, he saw Hotch. The older man was dressed in casual clothing. The faint scent of roasted coffee beans and vanilla managed to ground Spencer back in reality. The smell seemed to follow Aaron everywhere he went. He evened his breathing as he reassessed his surroundings. Hotch held onto him firmly, as if the younger man would fall apart if he dared to let go. 

“Wh-What are you doing here? You should be at work.” Spencer’s voice was hoarse.

Hotch leaned back onto his heels and sat down to cross his legs. Spencer had never seen the man look so concerned. Habitually, he noted the changes: brows furrowed, lips tight, pupils constricted. 

“I was worried about you.” 

The soft words brought Spencer back to tears. He did not deserve such a kindhearted man. “Why? I was terrible to you.” 

Hotch smiled, but it was strained. “I knew that something was wrong.”

Spencer sniffled. “I didn’t mean what I said.” 

Hotch wrapped his arms around him in a delicate hug. “I know.” He carded his fingers through Spencer’s tangled hair. When he pulled back, he appeared slightly more serious. “Now, tell me what drove you to sleep in the closet.” 

The younger man sighed, hesitant to confess his troubles, but remorseful for his actions. “I’ve been having nightmares since the incident.” He admitted. 

Hotch nodded serenely. The weight of the world lifted off the older man’s shoulders. “I know.” 

Spencer’s stomach dropped, but Hotch seemed unfazed by his confession. “How?” He asked, his mouth agape in shock. 

Hotch raised his eyebrow at him. “Reid, your coworkers are esteemed profilers,” He took Spencer’s delicate hand into his own. “I was waiting for you to come to me.” His brows knitted together again. “At least, I thought that you would.” 

For the second time that morning, an ugly and horrible guilt overtook him. He suddenly felt very stupid. But even a renowned prodigy could make mistakes. By no means did three doctorates somehow make him a perfect person. He decided to assume that his exhaustion was effecting his train of thought. He squeezed Hotch’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Aaron. I thought that I could handle it.” 

Their eyes met and conveyed every sincere apology and promise that lay unspoken between them. “There is no need to confront things alone,” Hotch managed to smile through his worry. “Not when we have each other.” 

Spencer knew that he meant it. The distance closed between them as their lips met in a gentle kiss. He felt a sense of calm drape over him. For the first time in a week, his mind was quiet. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Hotch noticed his eyelids fluttering and scooped him into his arms. Spencer settled his head against Hotch and listened to his heartbeat as the older man carried him to the bed. The terrifying prospect of sleeping had been replaced by a familiar, comforting embrace. 

He felt the mattress dip beneath his dead weight. Spencer curled into the comforter, his eyes already shut. Then, quite unexpectedly, his boyfriend slipped into the bed to join him from the other side. He cracked one eyelid open to address Hotch. “Wha-? Wait – what about work?” 

A grin slipped onto Hotch’s face. “Spencer, it’s Sunday.” 

It took an extra millisecond for Spencer’s tired brain to process that information. He snorted, causing both of them to break out into a fit of laughter. Worrisome thoughts drifted away as Hotch guided him to his chest. A serene smile crossed Spencer’s face as he burrowed against Hotch. The man's methodical breathing was soothing - real. Although everything was far from over, they could always share at least one day together in tranquility. He still had to face his demons when he reawakened, and the nightmares would continue to plague his dreams, but Spencer knew that he would never have to go through it alone. 

He wrapped his arms around his lover and nothing else in the world mattered.


End file.
